For most of us, the Internet has been a part of our lives since we were ‘yay high’ (please feel free to imagine a short kid). But despite all that time to get to know each other, I’ve been noticing that –like some couples, if not most or all– the Internet doesn’t really get me. I’m beginning to think that it’s just interested in my money (not that I’m a Silicon Valley millionaire, not even close). But that’s all It is interested in. I know it!

Whenever I find myself reading or trying to do some research, I notice that a myriad of products are thrown at my screen. Do I care about these products? Um.

…

Absolutely not. I know why they show up, though. Maybe I was looking for references, someone else borrowed my computer, my phone or my tablet (yes, we ALL have a lot of crap). But that does not mean that I’m desperately looking for:

a) A dustbuster

b) An ISP (duh, I already have one)

b.1) Interestingly enough, the ads that came up were from the terrible ISP service I cancelled a while back.

c) A razor blade I hate shaving with a blade. I only do it about twice a year. I absolutely despise the ritual)

c.1) This hurts me, Internet. It’s like you don’t even pay attention to me. If you actually cared about me, you’d know that I hate shaving with a blade. I only do it about twice a year. I absolutely despise the ritual. I use an electric razor. You broke my heart.

And so forth…

So, to put an end to this quick post, I will quote my elementary school classmates during “Speech Class”…

“As a conclusion I would like to say:”

Stop trying to take my good-hard-earned dollars, you gold digger!

–End of rant.–

So I leave you with some screen-grabs; it is actually just a couple of days of this onslaught of ads.

Being in NY during the terrorist attacks in Paris made me feel odd and unfamiliar in a very familiar city. Living parts of the year in Mexico City, you are somewhat used to “living in fear” or, better said, people asking you if it’s not “too dangerous.” As Mexicans, we usually answer with our vintage “it’s not that bad” response. And it is true for Mexico City. Like any big city, it has its neighborhoods. I happen to be lucky enough to live where “it’s not that bad.” However, there are times and/or places where you walk looking back, or cross a street if you see some shady character walking towards you. Now, that is also the case in other cities, of course.

During my stay in NYC, I spoke –by mere coincidence– with a couple of frenchmen who had family members shot at. I had never been that close to anyone in that kind of situation. The frenchmen is a shoe salesman. And that is how our interaction began. I walked into his store early Saturday. His wife was on the phone. Speaking French quite desperately.The look in his eyes changed. He let me know that his wife was trying to speak to friends and family in Paris. And so, I let him know how sorry I was. He spoke about family members actually being hurt and some that actually took time to account for. I don’t wish that feeling on anybody. I truly don’t. Other people that walked by this tiny store in Greenwich Village also gave the couple their condolences. After my brief, but powerful, stay at his store, I decided that I would visit the 9/11 Memorial. I knew that place as the World Trade Center. I also knew it as Ground Zero. And, in a cowardly manner, I didn’t want to know it a the 9/11 Memorial. But this sudden sorrow made me feel the need to actually go.

There’s absolutely nothing I can say about the place.

So, I’ll try to make you draw your own conclusions with what this, I video I taped on my phone that somewhat encompasses what I felt there:

I started to nitice the city changing its mood. From the military presence in Penn Station to helicopters hovering over Herald and Times Squares, I noticed a certain uneasiness in those always prideful New Yorkers. Something was definitely wrong. Fear is back. The news only talked about threats to Washington D.C, New York, Rome, Brussels, etc.

…same with the papers.

I won’t get into political issues, conspiracy theories, etc.

But the fear starts to permeate. I was anxious. You can’t help to wonder “What if?” And that’s when you know your afraid as well. I avoided walking in these very public spaces; not that I like Times Square anyways –but that’s another story for another time.– I actually jumped out of my seat in the subway when someone let one of the seats ride up and made a huge noise.

And so, the time to fly back came and that “I-never-ever-want-to-leave-NY” feeling was substituted with a sense of –false– security. That saddens me. I can only hope that nothing happens, that threats stays that way; mere words.

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